My Doctor, My Watson
by Wirral Bagpuss
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is hurt and Inspector Lestrade is trying to get Holmes medical attention. But Holmes only need one person to ease his pain. Will Inspector Lestrade fulfill Holmes's wish?


**My Doctor, My Watson.**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes, Dr Watson or Inspector Lestrade, but if i was ever in trouble, i would hire them immediately !!!_ **

**_Author's Note: This story is dedicated to _Nunewesen_ who has been feeling under the weather of late and I promised I would write a story with Dr Watson in mind. !! I hope you enjoy it!!!_**

Slowly and groggily Sherlock Holmes opened his eyes and awoke to a world of pain. He clutched his throbbing head and then felt the throbbing white hot lances of pain in his thigh. Holmes focused his blurred vision on the person sitting opposite him and recognised him as being Inspector Lestrade. Holmes let out a half stifled groan as he was flung back against his seat by the speeding cab.

"Mr Holmes, thank goodness you are awake, that was quite a blow to the head you took when Harrison made a run for it after we swooped in on the rest of the bank robbers"

Holmes struggled to remember as he tried to clear the fog that was clouding his mind. He placed a hand over his eyes and rubbed them wearily and slowly the events of the evening came tumbling back.

_He had been lying in wait with Lestrade as was mentioned. But then it had all begun to go wrong as soon as Lestrade had blown his police whistle. In the confusion Harrison had indeed made a run for it and Holmes had given chase. He had succeeded in tackling Harrison but Harrison had produced a revolver and shot Holmes and then had used the revolver to hit Holmes's head before dropping it and running off. Holmes dropped to the ground sinking into unconsciousness clutching his thigh, but not before seeing two constables running up and. on seeing Holmes fall, one of the constables shouted a warning to Harrison which was ignored. The constable had no hesitation in using the revolver Harrison had dropped and fired, hitting him in the leg and Harrison dropped to the ground crying in agony. Satisfied that the danger had passed, Holmes succumbed to the darkness that had been encroaching on him and he fell unconscious_.

Holmes mind came back to the present and looked at Lestrade.

"Where are we going Inspector?" asked Holmes who was still somewhat groggy.

"Why to Charing Cross Hospital, Mr Holmes, you need medical attention, and quite probably surgery on that gunshot wound of yours". Replied Lestrade.

Holmes shook his head and quickly responded

"No hospital Lestrade, take me back to Baker Street. I want Dr Watson, no one else".

"But Mr Holmes, you need immediate medical attention and Charing Cross is the best place to get it! "Protested Lestrade.

Holmes was fast becoming exhausted with the effort of talking and the pain was taking its toll. He tried again.

"No Lestrade, I want Watson to treat me, please instruct the cabbie to take us to Baker Street".

Lestrade stiffened in his seat and leant forward clasping a hand on Holmes arm.

"But Mr Holmes-"Lestrade started but was cut off by an angry Holmes who shook Lestrade's hand off his arm.

"**I** **WANT MY WATSON AND I WANT HIM NOW!!!**" shouted Holmes.

Lestrade sighed and knew when it was time to stop arguing with Sherlock Holmes and thumped the roof of the cab indicating he wanted the cabbie to stop. The cab came to a halt and Lestrade stuck his head out of the window.

"Cabbie, there has been a change of plan, take us to 221B Baker Street as fast as possible".

The cabbie groaned but complied.

"Yes Guv, we are not that far from there now, will only take a few minutes".

Lestrade thanked the cabbie and pulled withdrew from the window and sat back in his seat. He looked at Holmes anxiously; he looked pale and drawn and saw that his shirt was now rapidly becoming covered in blood. He was beginning to wonder if it had been such a good idea to give in to Holmes so easily but then a weak voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Thank you Lestrade, for taking me home to Watson, he is the only Doctor I can ever really trust". Said Holmes.

And then to Lestrade's surprise Holmes said something that to this day he would never forget.

"Lestrade, I want you to do something for me, if anything should happen to me, I want you to look after Dr Watson, will you do that for me?"

Lestrade struggled for words but those grey eyes penetrated his, and Lestrade could only respond with one answer.

"Yes of course Mr Holmes, if that is your wish, after all you've done for the Yard, I can do that for you in return".

Holmes smiled and then closed his eyes as exhaustion took over and he was quickly losing the struggle to stay awake.

The cab came to a halt and Lestrade got out of the cab and helped Holmes out who leant heavily against the cab trying to catch his balanced as he swayed heavily. He stumbled forward refusing the further offer of help from Lestrade, and used his keys to open the door and almost fell face forward into the hallway, but Lestrade held Holmes up and then shouted

"Help me somebody please, Mr Holmes is injured!"

His call was answered by the appearance of a figure at the top of the stairs who suddenly cried with a trembling horrified voice:

"Holmes!"

Dr Watson came rushing down the stairs and relieved Lestrade of Holmes. Seeing Holmes almost unconscious, he lifted Holmes into his arms and said softly

"It's aright Holmes, I have you"

Holmes stirred slightly and opened his eyes, staring into hazel ones

"Watson!" said Holmes softly, smiling briefly, and he lifted his hand and gripped Watson's jacket as he bit back the pain.

"Relax Holmes, I'll take care of you, you are safe now" replied Watson

"Watson, with you I always feel safe, you are the only Doctor I trust and you are also my Watson…" Holmes responded.

Holmes felt his body relax as he once more embraced the darkness and he knew nothing more.

Watson stared fondly at his friend and then back up at Lestrade.

"Thank you Lestrade, for bringing him home. He will be alright now; I will take care of him."

And with that Watson ascended the seventeen steps to Holmes bedroom carrying the limp form of his friend.

Lestrade sighed as Watson and Holmes vanished from view. As he closed the door behind him on his way out he looked up at the window and saw the gas lamp burning. _Holmes is right_. _London is getting more dangerous , one day one of them will get hurt beyond help and medical attention, how will one cope without the other? _Thought Lestrade.

He did not have long to wait. Six months later a distraught and almost broken man was sitting in his police office signing the paperwork and application to become a Police Surgeon. I am not Sherlock _Holmes_, Lestrade thought, _but I would rather have you as Police Surgeon than anyone else, almost my Watson, but you belong to another. But I will fulfil a promise I made to a friend. I will catch you when you fall._


End file.
